Afterglow
by calliope-love
Summary: Break and Liam have a half-asleep, late-night talk. Spoilers for Break's past. Rated T to be safe.


The night seemed vast and still to Break, when they were done. He lay sprawled over Liam's chest, listening as the other man's heart slowed to its usual steady rhythm, and waited patiently. Liam had a truly delightful tendency to begin stroking whatever bits of Break he could reach when he started to doze off after one of their nights together. He never seemed to be fully aware that he was doing it, and Break couldn't get enough of it. It calmed him, grounded him, helped him to remember when and where he was during the time he was most prone to forgetting he even existed in the first place. Liam had wonderful hands.

He didn't have to wait long. It was late. They both were tired. One of Liam's hands began to drift down his back, down and down and up again; the other moved along with its partner for a moment before it discovered the curve of Break's shoulder and meandered smoothly over his arm. It paused to play with Break's long fingers for a while, and then slid its way back to his spine. Neither hand ever stopped moving, idly exploring expanses of skin they'd traveled across a thousand times before.

Break let out a deep sigh that might have embarrassed him if either of them had been awake enough to notice it, and let his eye fall shut. These touches were the reason he'd begun spending the entire night in Liam's bed instead of fleeing to his own once the younger man fell asleep — Break could never help dozing off himself when all he was thinking of were the trails of warmth those hands left on him.

He was almost asleep when Liam suddenly murmured, "Found you in a book today."

Break's eye opened, though it was pitch dark anyway, and his brain made a feeble attempt to process the statement. He shifted his head just slightly against Liam's chest and gave him a half-hearted, "Hm?"

"You were in a book," Liam repeated, his words slurring together. "Or Kevin Regnard was."

Break tensed, his sleepiness lost. "And what sort of book was it, that had that name in it?"

"Unsolved mysteries," said Liam. He yawned, rousing himself just enough to have something like a conversation. One of his hands settled at the back of Break's neck and fiddled with the tangled hair that fell over it. "Never caught you. Just disappeared. Said maybe you stopped on your own 'cause you'd got whatever your revenge was. Not written by anyone in Pandora. Obviously."

"It was never about _revenge,_" Break said quietly, mostly because he didn't think Liam would really remember in the morning. "It was restoration I wanted."

"Book said," Liam told him defensively, still half asleep. Book said, not Liam. He rolled onto his side, but caught Break in his arms before he could spill away and tucked him in close to his chest again.

Break wondered, bemused, how in the world he'd managed to stumble across a lover who could casually reference his past as a mass murderer and then nuzzle contentedly into his hair. Liam was not really dozing anymore, but one hand continued to run up and down Break's side, and so Break decided to stay. His thoughts, however, wandered.

"What's wrong?" Liam asked presently.

Break snorted. Trust him to be able to _tell_. He shook his head, but Liam tilted his head up so that their foreheads rested against each other, murmured his name. When Break still wouldn't respond, the younger man began dropping kisses all over his face, wheedling him with affection until he finally gave up and blurted, "I will never understand how you came to terms with what I am so quickly."

He felt Liam's eyelashes brush against his cheek as he blinked. "What you were —"

"What I _am,_ Liam. It's all still there."

"That's why," said Liam. Hands moved. "You've always — you're _real._ I was there when you first came out of the gate. I remember what you were like then. You were the most — the most tangible thing I'd ever seen. Sometimes I still see it in you." He brushed the hair away from Break's face then, and let his fingers gently circle the empty eyelid. "You hide so many things, but those things are still _there_. And right now, you're _here_. That's why."

Break lay there quietly for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around this little speech, a bit taken aback by the sleepy passion under the words. Then he let out a sigh and brought his own hands to Liam's face.

"I really don't get you," he said.

"I'm not sure I do either," Liam told him; he felt him smile, just a little, against his hand. "I can't think when I'm this tired."

"Go to sleep," said Break. "You have to be up tomorrow."

"So do you."

"We both know I won't be." Before Liam could comment, Break leaned forward and kissed him gently — hopefully it would prevent him from waking up with a vague notion that his lover was upset with him; that had happened once — and then, on a whim, he reached around and ran his hand down Liam's back, slowly, the way the other man had touched him before. The sweat from their earlier activities had dried on his skin and made it soft and pleasant to feel. Liam let out a quiet moan of appreciation and set his own hands moving again.

Gradually, Break began to relax, though it was Liam who dozed off first. Break scooted as close as he could to the warmth of him, and let the sound of his breathing anchor him in himself until his mind had stilled enough that he could believe that they were the only two people in the world.

His memory was fuzzy the next morning, and he could barely recall Liam's words. After that, though, Liam developed a habit of reaching out to rest his hand against Break's face from time to time, just for the sake of touching him. In those moments, Break thought some part of him might understand.


End file.
